Shadows of Destiny / Sam Winchester

4

Raya remained seated, her mind racing with thoughts. What now? Would she leave? Would her father even let her leave? Anxiety surged through her body and mind, each possibility causing her heart to pound harder. She watched Sam as he talked on the phone, his expression a mix of determination and concern, while Dean paced around, his movements restless.

"Oh, come on, Bobby, she can't stay here," Sam exclaimed into the phone, catching Raya's attention. He noticed her gaze and sent her a little wave, which she returned with a small smile.

"And what do you want me to do? Adopt her? Hell no," Bobby argued, Sam locking eyes with Dean and shrugged. Dean rubbed his hands together and walked over to his brother.

"Okay, give me him," Dean said, extending his hand for the phone.

"Dean," Sam protested.

"Give me the phone, Sam," Dean insisted. Sam sighed and handed Dean the phone.

"Okay, listen up, Bobby. You sent us here; it was your idea. The girl can't stay here; everyone treats her like dirt, and her old man's been giving her hell," Dean said firmly, his voice carrying weight. He could almost hear Bobby's sharp intake of breath at the mention of her father's abuse. After a moment of silence, Bobby reluctantly agreed, and Dean knew he had won.

"Fine, bring her over" came Bobby's resigned voice through the phone. Dean looked at Sam and gave him a thumbs-up. They walked back over to Raya.

"Is your father home?" Dean asked, and Raya shook her head.

"Um, no. He is usually at the pub at this time," she replied. Dean nodded.

"Alright, let's get you packed, then," he said, gesturing for her to follow him to his car. Raya glanced over at Sam, who just smiled at her reassuringly.

"Are you coming?" Dean called from his car. "You better hurry; otherwise, you're walking there!"

"Does he not realize that I normally walk to my house?" Sam chuckled at her statement.

"Maybe. Dean doesn't like using his mind, you know," Sam teased, Raya smiled and look at Sam noticing the dimples on Sam's cheeks when he smiled. She found herself smiling even more at the sight.

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"Here we are," Dean said as he took his hands off the wheel and looked back at Raya in the backseat, playing with her hand once again. She looked up, meeting the sight of the house she grew up in. The house where everything, good and mostly bad, happened. It was the only place she ever called home, and now she was leaving it behind along with the life she had been living. There was a spark of excitement in her chest at the thought of being free, but there was also an echo of reluctance that didn't want her to leave this rundown, neglected house behind. Raya look at the tree she loved to climb years ago back then the tree was shining with health, and this leaves had bright dark green colour the colour Raya desperately loves. His trunk was ready for her to climb on it and to tell stories, but now the tree looks destroyed more than any other flower or tree in this garden. His leaves are gone without any sight of the colour they used to have, and his trunk looked so fragile that Raya thought it might break if she would climb on it.

"Do you want us to come with you?" Sam asked after while watching her. He had an idea how she feels. When he was leaving for Stanford, he was so happy that he got in but the heavy feeling in his chest that his family is not going to be happy for him. That his father didn't want him to go never leaving his side. The stinging hurt in his heart when his father told him to never come back if he really indeed to leave.

Raya met his eyes seeing the understanding, the sparks in her chest growing. Sam and Dean are here, offering her a new beginning. She didn't think she deserve she was always made to believe she was a monster. But for some reason, they saw her differently.

Raya laced her fingers against the door crank the coolness lingering on her finger "no, its okay" she smiled at them and leave the car.

Raya's heart sank as she stepped into the dimly lit hallway of her childhood home. The familiar scent of stale alcohol mixed with the faint aroma of cigarettes lingered in the air, a constant reminder of her father's struggles with addiction. Empty bottles of whiskey and vodka littered the floor, along with discarded cigarette butts scattered like fallen leaves.

As she passed through the living room, she noticed the remnants of her father's drug use—an empty pill bottle lying haphazardly on the coffee table, its label peeled off, and a rolled-up dollar bill stained with residue. It was a scene she had become all too accustomed to, a stark contrast to the happy memories she once had of this place.

Entering her room, Raya couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the sight of the empty bookshelf. It used to be filled with her mother's cherished books, a source of comfort and solace during the darkest times. But her father's destructive tendencies had taken that away from her, just like he had taken so much else.

The room was small, with just a bed, a wardrobe, and now an empty bookshelf. It used to be filled with her mother's books, cherished possessions that Raya held onto dearly. They were her mother's favourites, and Raya had read them repeatedly to feel closer to her. But her father didn't like it. He thought she didn't deserve happiness, so he burned every single book and made Raya watch.

"Everything you like is going to end up like this. This is not my fault Raya this is just you. You destroy everything around you." Her father voice spat at her in the back of her mind.

With the word echoing in her mind, she took a deep breath. With a shaky hand, Raya started to pack her clothes. She didn't have much—most of them were worn down, and the rest were a few sizes too big. Moving to the little table with a photo on it, she picked it up. It was a picture of her, her mother, and her father, all smiling happily. Her mother held her hand, kissing it affectionately. Raya petted the spot in the picture, hoping to feel some connection, but there was none. She put the photo in her bag and left her room.

Standing in front of the front door, with her hand on the handle, she turned around and felt nausea washing over her. She let her hand fall and went to the kitchen, taking a piece of paper and a pen. With a shaky hand, she scribbled her goodbye, writing the last words, "Please, forgive me." Her father was the only person she had known and loved; despite the pain he had caused her. She didn't want to abandon him, but she couldn't endure this anymore.

As Raya closed the door of the Impala, she couldn't help but wonder how Dean would react if she had slammed it shut. She was greeted by four pairs of concerned eyes.

"You good?" Dean asked, his tone soft but filled with genuine concern. Raya leaned back against the leather seat and offered a weak nod. Both Sam and Dean understood that Raya wasn't okay, but they knew it would take time for her to trust them fully.

Sam reached out to gently pat her shoulder, a silent reassurance that they were there for her, Raya appreciated the gesture, even though she wasn't ready to open up completely just yet. She trusted them enough to have gotten her out of that situation, but building a deeper connection would take time.

As they drove away from the scene, Raya couldn'tshake the feeling of relief mixed with apprehension. She was grateful for theWinchester brothers' help, but she knew that trusting them completely was arisk she wasn't sure she was ready to take. However, she couldn't deny thesense of safety she felt in their presence, and she was willing to give them achance to prove themselves.